


If I Could Do It All Again

by ChaoticDemon



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-18 16:31:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7322602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticDemon/pseuds/ChaoticDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something odd about Tony Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Natasha I

**Author's Note:**

> This has no regular posting schedule, sorry. It will be updated whenever I get around to it. I will update the tags as things become relevant. I'm making this up as I go along. 
> 
> Also, if anyone can think of a better name and wants to share it with me, please do so.

The first time Natasha met Tony Stark, he froze at the sight of her. It was only for a moment, when she and Potts had first entered the room, but it was long enough for her to notice. It wasn’t particularly alarming; she had been told that Stark had a weakness for pretty women. The way his eyes proceeded to rake up and down her form corroborated this. There was something off about it, though. There was no heat to it and it was slightly exaggerated, almost like he was just going through the motions. He stepped out of the ring and sauntered over to the two women. Natasha’s lips formed a deliberately professional smile as Potts introduced her by her alias.

“This is Natalie Rushman,” the soon to be CEO said, “she's from legal.”

Stark offered the shorter woman his hand. “It’s a pleasure,” he said, waiting for her to take his hand before continuing. “Natasha, was it?”

Natasha blinked at him. “Natalie, actually.”

Stark cocked his head to the side. “Natalia?” he tried. His hand was very warm where it was still grasping hers. 

“Natalie,” she said once more. Her hand twitched as she fought the urge to pull it away from him. 

Stark hummed. “Sure,” he said, “why not?” He squeezed his fingers gently around hers for a moment before finally letting go. “Where do I sign?” he asked, turning to Potts.

Natasha stared at him. Had Stark made her? Had she been given inaccurate information? She tried not to let her apprehension show on her face as she went over the contract with her mark. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed both Potts and Hogan cast worried looks in Stark’s direction.

“Do you like working in legal?” Stark asked, signing his name with an unnecessary amount of flourishes.

“It has its perks,” she replied. Did he just draw a heart after his name? 

Stark flipped the page. “How would you feel about a career change?”

Behind them, Potts groaned. “Tony.”

“Just a little baby one,” Stark continued, lifting his left hand so Natasha could see how closely his thumb and index finger were pressed together. 

“Tony, no,” said Potts.

Natasha considered for a moment. “What kind of career change?”

“Be my PA?” he asked. It was oddly vulnerable.

“Tony,” Potts repeated, “No.”

Stark turned to his new CEO. “Tony, yes,” he told her with a grin. He turned back to Natasha. “C’mon,” he wheedled, “I have a super secret project I could use your help with.”

Natasha weighed her options. “Alright, Mr Stark.”

His smile was brilliant. “Call me Tony.”


	2. Natasha II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not 100% happy with this, but it wasn't going to get any better.

“Sit, sit,” Tony said, clearing off a chair for her. He rearranged the papers covering the desk, stacking them into increasingly taller piles. A few of them wobbled precariously.

 

Natasha took a seat on the offered piece of furniture and looked around curiously. The lab was predictably modern. There were half-finished machines littering various surfaces and a collection of classic cars parked neatly against the far wall. A couple of robots wheeled around the floor. The only thing out of place was the mountain of paper files that cluttered up the space surrounding the desk. “You don't seem the type,” she said, tapping the front of a folder with the tips of her fingernails.

 

Tony looked at the files in distaste. “Yes, well, not everyone is as dedicated to digitalization as I am.” He looked behind Natasha suddenly. “Dum-E, no. Don't you dare.”

 

Natasha turned her head to see who he was talking to and found a great claw looming behind her. One of the robots, she realized, seeing the camera lens mounted in the center of the claw. The robot looked at her for another moment before turning the camera to face Tony. It beeped inquisitively.

 

“This is Natasha,” Tony said, gesturing at her. He waved his hand at the robot. “Natasha, meet Dum-E.”

 

“My name is Natalie,” she corrected. The robot glanced at her before beeping again.

 

“She’s my new PA,” Tony told it. The claw rotated. “Pepper’s CEO now, remember?” he continued. “We had the party for her? Butterfingers dropped the cake?” This seemed to spark some part of the robot’s memory; Dum-E turned away from them and raced to the other side of the workshop, coming to a stop in a corner tucked between a large cabinet and a table full of gleaming tools. Tony rolled his eyes. “Sorry about that,” he told her. “Dum-E really, really likes Pepper.”

 

Natasha took a moment to respond. “That’s…” she trailed off. She looked over to where the robot was sulking. Dum-E had turned slightly to watch the two of them. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said, loudly enough to be heard across the room. The robot rotated its claw in a startled manner and whirled to face away from her. Tony snorted. Natasha let her lips quirk up in a small smile. After a few moments, she turned back to Tony. “What’s so important that it can’t wait until after Monaco?” she asked him.

 

Tony started. “Right,” he said, pawing through the stacks of paper. He paused to take in the sheer number of files he had amassed. “Right,” he repeated. He didn’t seem to know where to start. “I’m looking for a file,” he said.

 

“A specific one? Or in general?”

 

“Specific. A few of them, actually.” Tony flapped a hand at her distractedly. “Hey, J? Do you happen to remember where I put the Vanko files?”

 

“I’m afraid not,” a disembodied voice replied. Natasha would have been startled if she hadn’t already been introduced. “I wouldn’t know how to begin to understand your organizational methods.”

 

Tony gasped in mock offense. “You’re sassing me, J? Really?”

 

“I did learn from the best, sir.” Jarvis sounded amused.

 

“No loyalty,” Tony said, shaking his head. “None.”

 

“Would you like me to help you look for them?” Natasha offered. She tried not to sound to eager even as her fingers toyed with the edges of the file nearest to her..

 

Tony shrugged. “Sure. Might as well. You’re going to see it all eventually anyway.”

 

Natasha was already flipping through one of the folders. “What am I looking for?” She scanned the first page. Who was Betty Ross and why was Tony interested in her.

 

“Anything about Anton or Ivan Vanko.” Tony pulled a file out of the bottom of a particularly tall stack. The tower of paper wobbled, but did not fall down. “Some of them are probably in Russian,” he warned.

 

“That’s fine,” Natasha responded, flipping through more papers. A missing persons report this time, from 1988. She made a mental note of the name printed at the top. “You speak it?” She glanced at Tony. 

 

He wiggled a hand in a vague manner. “Не очень хорошо,” he told her. His accent was terrible.

 

A series of bangs from across the room caught their attention and both of them looked toward the source. Dum-E was still in his corner and was once again watching them. The nearby table was now bare; the floor beneath it was littered with tools. When the robot noticed them looking, the claw swung up and away. Natasha was pretty sure Dum-E was trying to act innocent. A second robot wheeled over and began trying to pick up a wrench from the edge of the mess. The tool was too small for for the robot’s claw to grip and kept clattering to the floor.

 

Tony threw the file he was holding down onto the desk. “What the fuck, Dum-E?,” he asked, striding over to the mess. Natasha fought back a grin and flipped through a third file. There was another crash. “Butterfingers. No.”

 

Natasha was trying to figure out why in the world Tony cared about Nazi archeology when she heard a soft whir behind her. Something lightly touched her hair. Natasha turned around again. There was a third robot behind her. It studied her for a moment before speeding away towards one of the fancy cars. It reached inside and grabbed something before zooming back to Natasha. Almost shyly, it held the object out the her. Natasha took it and the robot wheeled away to try and hide behind a too small desk. Every few seconds its clawed head would pop above the top of the desk to watch her

 

It had given her an action figure, Captain America specifically. Natasha turned it over in her hands. There were some dings and scratches, but on the whole it was in good condition. “What’s your name?” she asked, looking at the robot still trying to fit itself behind the piece of furniture. It trilled a bit, peeking out at her before attempting to duck out of sight again. 

 

Jarvis answered for it. “Its name is U, Miss Rushman.” 

 

“Hey, U,” she crooned. The robot edged its way out of its hiding place. “This is a cool action figure.” U trilled again, in what Natasha assumed was agreement. “You like Captain America, huh?” U squealed and took off for the car again. He picked something else up out of it and brought it over to show her, holding it up so that she could see.

 

Natasha took one look at the Howling Commandos lunchbox and grinned. “Very nice,” she told the robot, “I know someone who’d be very jealous.” She could swear that U preened.

 

There was a final clang from the corner and Natasha looked over once more. All the tools were now piled on the table and Dum-E was staring forlornly at Tony, dunce cap perched on its metal claw. Tony was walking back towards them with Butterfingers right on his heels. Seeing U still holding up the lunchbox,Tony narrowed his eyes and changed course.

 

“Are you storing stuff in my cars again?” he asked, heading toward the row of cars. He peered into one of them. “Dammit, U! You have a cubby for a reason. Use it,” Tony said as he reached inside to remove something. U trilled in alarm and took off in the genius’ direction, likely to defend its precious collection.

  
Natasha, still grinning, went back to searching through the files. She’d give Tony ten minutes to finish bot wrangling. In the meantime, who in the world named their child Mary Sue Poots?


End file.
